


I just called to tell you

by Rockyroll



Category: Dawson's Creek
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:28:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26518246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rockyroll/pseuds/Rockyroll
Summary: Set after Love Bites and Before the finale
Relationships: Joey Potter/Pacey Witter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	I just called to tell you

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what or why this is, but I just felt compelled and yeah, no editing so...sorry, not sorry?

(After the prom in season 6, but before the finale)

He almost doesn't pick up. Each ring feels like nails against the chalbaord of her heart.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

Silence 

"I want to talk to you."

"Why?"

"I broke up with eddie."

"I don’t see how that has anything to do with me, Jo."

Sometimes he uses my name like curse

"It’s just that, I realized something and I wanted to...apologize."

"I think that ship’s sailed, Joey."

"You’re right, it did. Literally."

Pause

"I take it you’re not talking about the fiasco that was supposed to be our do-over prom."

"No, not exactly," why am I being coy? No, not coy. Cowardly.

"We’re not good for each other, Jo. I think...maybe, I’m not even sure we should be friends at this point."

My breath catches in my throat. I’ve really pushed him far this time, I'm really going to lose him.

"You’re right," because he doesn't need me as his friend.

My voice is tiny, even tinier than usual. I don’t recognize it.

"So that’s what you called to tell me? I guess it’s good that we can agree on something." He was apathetic when he answered the phone. Now his sarcasm is biting. Bitter. At least he cares?

I wiped my eyes and cleared my nose as delicately as I could.

"No, that’s not why I called.

His sighs have always been dramatic. He can say so much in one sigh. Sometimes it’s breathy, sometimes more throat, or he’ll add his lower register to it and it comes out as a growl. This one has his voice, his normal voice, and it’s tired. He’s tired of me.

I continue, "I called because I was thinking about what you said at the prom senior year. About how tired you were, about how you you thought i wanted you to do more or be more than what you were or different in some way

"It’s been years, Jo, why are we doing this?" 

"Because, you were right and I wanted you to know how much I see that now. It wasn’t your fault, it really wasn’t. From the moment I stepped foot on True Love, you were going above and beyond for me. I was so fucking needy and I took and took and I never gave back-"

"-you did." He interrupts.

"No, Pace."

My voice is full of tears, but I need this. This is my chance for a clean slate or, at least, one that has wiped to the point where the letters have been smudged and illegible

"The truth is, Pace, you were an amazing boyfriend and I used you all up. I knew," my breath is catching and I’m talking through muted sobs, "that you were giving us your all and the truth is," I pause for a breath, "it didn’t occur to me to figure out how to give back to you how you needed."

"What does that even mean? What I needed?" He sounds angry. Why is he angry? Because I'm too late? Because I'm getting wrong, again?

"It means that you deserved more. You deserve more now. You deserve for someone to treat you the way you treated me. With so much love, with reverence and tenderness. I took advantage of all of that. I just want you to know how sorry I am." It's a little embarrassing how desperate I am, but this isn't about me. That's the point. That's the whole fucking point. It's worth it if I can restore a little bit of his pride, of his shattered soul, to him. 

Silence.

He hasn’t responded, but I can hear his choked breathing. I’ve made him cry and hopefully, its cathartic and I haven't broken him even more.

"If I treated you that way, Jo, it was because I put you on a pedestal. I did that. I put you there. I think a part of me wanted you to treat me like that. It’s what I was used to, what I expected. Just like you expected me to leave because everyone leaves you, right?"

I bite my lip, that was too close to the truth. Is he trying to hurt me back or am I just so used to being treated with kid gloves that when he's just being honest, it hurts?

"You don’t have to say anything, Jo, I know that that one still hurts." He does know and he won't push it, because...I don't want to hope that I know. 

Fresh tears are running down my face and there are memories clouding over my thoughts - memories of my mom and dad and Dawson and him. It's always him in the background of all of it. 

"I wish I could do it over, Pacey, I wish I had done better this last time. I wish I could learn from my mistakes."

"Jo, it’s not the right time for us and maybe it won’t ever be, but you know that I love you, right?"

"Yeah." I exhale, dejected.

"Jo," he’s admonishing me, but my name on his lips is getting less caustic every time he says it. "I don’t mean in that platonic, friendly way, I mean I am truly and completely and irrevocably in love with you. It won’t go away, but right now it’s -"

"It’s not the right time I know." I finish for him.

We let that decision, that fact, wash over us. The more we tell ourselves, the more it will feel like the truth.

"So you want to tell me what happened with Eddie?"

"He wasn’t you."

"Well, of course not."

"Can I tell you a secret, Pacey?"

"Sure, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it. How salacious is it, this secret?" He's lying. He's always kept my secrets. I don't know anyone more trustworthy than him.

"He never made me come."

"Oh really?" he draws it out and I can practically touch the cheesy, wide smile on his face. It's contagious, even over the phone. 

"Does that make you happy?" My voice drops, but it's still wavering from my earlier tears.

"Kind of, yeah. I wish I could say I was sorry, but I mean part of the whole being in love with you thing means that I sort of exclusively would like to be the person who helps you with that, but I also want you to be happy and I know orgasms make you happy, so…" _in love with you_

"Who said I needed anyone to help me with that?" I'm bolder. His words always have a way of building me up. 

"Really? As I recall you used to be rather disgusted with idea of, what did you call it? ‘Walking your dog’."

"I’d say it’s more like ‘petting my cat’ these days." Did I say that?

"Jesus Christ, Jo," He's laughing. That's something. 

"You doing okay, over there Witter?" The banter makes it familiar, but it's not real.

"Only you, Josephine could make me cry and come in the same conversation."

"I am amazing that way, but unless you’ve gotten a lot quieter than before, I haven’t made you come."

"No, not yet…"

"Pacey?" My voice is vulnerable again and his voice changes when he responds.

"Yeah, Jo?" my name is gentler than it’s been all night, like he used to say it when we were recovering after making love. When he was still inside of me and he would frame my face with his hands and read me. I always responded with the same words, _yeah pace,_ and he would garner any information he needed from that. He knew if it was breathy, that I wasn't done and he'd move his fingers between us. Or if it was a loud, exhale, I was well and truly sated and he'd kiss me with a smile and roll away to take care of the condom. Or if it was small and whiny, he'd hold off on the condom, knowing I needed his warmth and arms. He'd stay in me even after his erection was gone and it couldn't have been comfortable for him, but he held me until my tears dried or my breath evened. 

"Did you mean what you said before about us not being friends?"

A breathy sigh, but he wants me to hear it.

"It hurts, Joey." 

"I know."


End file.
